LongAwaited Truce
by Croik
Summary: After the last battle at Sekigahara, Orochi 2, Samurai story, Date is taken prisoner, and Naoe has to make a choice. Naoe/Date yaoi


**Long-Awaited Truce**

For Silver Magess Yuletide '08.

The prompt was Naoe/Date, but I also tried to incorporate a different prompt about playing with Orochi's timeline. This fic takes place in Orochi 2, but draws a lot from Samurai Warriors 2, especially Date's ending. C&C welcome, enjoy!

* * *

Naoe could still taste blood at the back of his mouth. The battle had long since ended, but the thick, coppery stench that continued to steam from the cold and trampled plains infected his nostrils and swarmed over his tongue. In the fading sunset the bodies looked almost black, formless masses strewn in hapless disarray. Though more were foe than friend, for once Naoe felt little satisfaction in the victory. He weaved among the dead slowly, favoring his sore left leg as he surveyed the aftermath.

This was Sekigahara. He had no way to know for certain, as it was not a battleground he had tread before, but Sakon had assured him that it had changed very little in its crossover from the former world. It seemed a strange fate to him that he had been asked to fight for the freedom of mankind on this particular field, after having devoted so many nights to the imagining of it. As he crossed the weary landscape he pictured familiar banners crushed into the dirt, familiar faces on the corpses: one in particular, which he feared to discover more than any other.

"Kanetsugu." A firm hand clasped his shoulder, drawing him out of his somber musings. "Are you all right?"

Naoe shook himself slightly and turned to face the familiar voice. "Sakon. What is it?"

"You had me worried," Sakon told him, honest concern behind his teasing tone. "I've been looking for you." He frowned. "And you're limping."

"It's nothing serious," Naoe assured. When Sakon offered his shoulder he borrowed it for just a moment to stretch the bruised leg and bend his knee. Near the beginning of the battle he had been thrown from his horse when a cannon mortar landed too close. Thankfully his grieves had taken the blow from the shrapnel and spared him from losing blood, but it was still throbbing after being so overworked. He took the attention away from his minor injury by asking, "Why were you looking for me?"

"Request from Lord Shingen." Sakon signaled behind him, where one of his officers was holding the reigns of two horses. "He thought you might want to be there when they brought in a little friend of ours."

It took Naoe a moment to realize who Sakon might have meant, but when it occurred to him, his already roiling stomach grew cold. "Please, take me there."

They rode to the east end of the field, up a winding path along the tree line which led to a small encampment in the hills. Their soldiers were a heavier presence here than in the field below, as they had been split into groups to guard the captured enemy men. Naoe recognized the green banners among them, and it made him spur his mount faster to the center of the camp.

Shingen was waiting for them at the top of the hill with Sima Yi beside him; the latter never ceased to send a bit of a chill through Naoe. His faced was pinched and smug, and he spoke to Shingen with little of the respect that was owed him.

"Better to kill the runt and order all his men to the same," he was saying, fanning himself delicately. When he saw Sakon and Naoe approaching, he even lifted his voice so that they would be sure to hear. "Whatever your judgment of him, he should not be left alive this time."

"We almost said the same of you, Strategist," Shingen reminded him, his voice deep and faintly teasing. "You and he were working together not long ago."

"Ha! Don't be ridiculous." Sima Yi clicked his gilded nails against each other, and the sound put Naoe on edge as he dismounted and came forward. "He was only yet another pawn of mine. As a strategist yourself, I would have thought you'd understand that much."

"Lord Shingen," Naoe interrupted them. He bowed to them both. "I hear you sent for me."

"I did." Shingen took a step forward, his face masked as usual, unreadable. "You deserve to be here." He glanced to Sima Yi and nodded his head. "Your advice is appreciated."

Again Sima Yi scoffed, and as Shingen and Naoe moved past him, he could not help one last remark. "Don't let your judgment be clouded, Kanetsugu," he said haughtily. "Your 'justice' is a different beast here." Naoe spared him only a brief look before following Shingen under the canvas flaps and into the compound.

There were many guards at alert, and they directed the two men to a closed off section of the camp: a square tent with the opening flaps drawn open, a resting stool within. As soon as Shingen had settled himself on the stool he gave his fan a decisive flap, and three of the guards hurried to obey his unspoken command.

Naoe stood behind Shingen and to the right. Though he knew very well what was about to happen, he was at a loss as to how he should meet it. It seemed to him that they were about to repeat their encounter only weeks ago in Chang Ban, with likely the same outcome--or one worse. The possibilities made him dizzy.

The guards returned, dragging along with them none other than Masamune Date. His wrists were heavily bound behind his back, and he was limping more severely than Naoe himself, but neither of those things had any effect on the familiar fire burning in his one good eye. His armor was stained and tattered from the battle, his helmet missing entirely, and all along the right side of his face blood matted his hair down and made a gruesome outline of his patch. Had he not known better, Naoe might have thought that years old injury was fresh, and that if the patch were lifted he might see the ragged edges of his gored socket grotesquely exposed.

Date was still defiant. His steps, though uneven thanks to a wounded calf, were willful and strong. He did not allow the soldiers binding him to support any of his weight as he was led before the men who would judge him. Naoe was oddly relieved, and also disappointed, to see his pride so firmly rooted.

The guards forced their captive to his knees in front of Shingen, and it was not until he was there that he took notice of Naoe as well. For the briefest of moments, Naoe was sure he saw a flash of uncertainty in Date's upturned gaze. Though it would have been normal for any man to show fear in the face of his death, Naoe sensed there was something unique and significant in the wary look he was being specifically fixed with. As soon as Shingen started speaking, and Date turned his attention to him, it was gone.

"Masamune Date," Shingen declared. "I suppose you are thinking now that you should have accepted my offer in Chang Ban."

Date spat in the dirt, leaving a smear of blood. "I'm thinking that if I had my pistols, you'd be accepting my lead," he snapped back.

"Ahh. A dragon to the end." Shingen waved his fan thoughtfully. "I used to wonder if you were worthy of the title. Now I know my answer."

"Where are my men?" Date demanded, his shoulders jerking as he struggled briefly against his bonds. "What have you done to them?"

"Nothing, yet. That will depend on you."

Date's gaze darted to Naoe briefly, and the weight of it made his bruised leg throb as if physically bearing it. "Give them back their swords," he told Shingen, "and they will follow me in death. But the Date will never bow to you."

"They will if _you_ will."

"Then I will never bow to you!"

The guards bristled at his disrespect, and one shoved his knee into Date's back, forcing him forward over his knees. "You're bowing now, you traitor snake!" he growled.

"That's enough!" Naoe quickly intervened. His skin was crawling as he watched Date struggle beneath the pressure with pain on his face; he may have had more injuries than were outwardly visible. "Have some respect for your enemy."

The guard let him up, but Date showed no gratitude for it. "Save you pity," he growled, though with less strength of venom than he usually displayed. "I've lost, and Lord Orochi is dead." The regret with which he spoke the serpent's name drew uneasy looks from all the surrounding men, save Naoe. "I'm not afraid to die!"

"NoI know you're not." There was something surreal in the drama being played between them, and Naoe had to clench his fists tight to give himself focus. "But you needn't die needlessly, either. Lord Shingen made to you an offer of camaraderie. It is not too late to accept--is it, Lord Shingen?"

Shingen leaned back slightly in surprise. "Well, I don't know," he replied, unhurried. "Back then, we could have used his help. Now that we've won..."

Date was already shaking his head, and flecks of dried blood scattered from the tips of his hair. "Don't bother. My answer's the same anyway; none of you have what it takes to rule this land. I don't need to live long enough to see you ruin it!"

With another twist of his shoulders Date's arms suddenly swung forward; it took Naoe a second too long to realize that he had severed the ropes binding him with the sheered edge of his gauntlet. The guards reached for their swords but by then Date had already sprang forward, his agility as keen as ever, his hands outstretched and grasping. Naoe lurched forward to intercept him for fear of Shingen, but his sword was wrenched away from him before he could begin to wield it, and a moment later he felt its cold steel against his throat.

"Stop!" Shingen commanded, now on his feet. He signaled at the guards with his fan for them to hold their ground.

Date had stopped as well; his bloodied gloves gripped the handle of Naoe's sword as he threatened its own master with it. He was breathing hard now--it was more than his head and his leg that had taken blows, that much was certain. His hands, however, did not waver in the slightest.

Naoe was similarly motionless. Though he felt the edge of the blade easily through the collar of his coat, he did not fear for a moment that it might do him real harm. He stared back at Date, reading the mix of pain and determination in his ragged face. He knew he had not misjudged him. Slowly, he took a breath. "We're not enemies here, Masamune."

Date's mouth twitched. "Here," he repeated. "You mean, not like back 'home.'" His hands shifted over the sword's handle. "You're right."

Date took a step back. The flat of the sword made a soft hissing sound as it slithered off of Naoe's shoulder, until just the tip was braced. There he hesitated, his face displaying the same uncommon flash of ill ease that Naoe had observed early.

"Masamune," Shingen said firmly from the side. "That's enough. Face your fate with honor."

Naoe went cold with the words. "No, wait--"

Date drew the sword away from Naoe sharply, and because it was too long for him to use against his belly, he twisted the blade instead to his throat. "I trust you'll give my men the same chance."

"_No_!"

Naoe leapt forward again, and this time he was fast enough to reach the sword first. By shoving his arm in the weapon's path it cut into his gauntlet, drawing blood from him instead of Date's neck. The action was so thoughtless and swift that he did not realize he had moved until he felt the sting. His other hand shot forward a moment later, grabbing Date by the shoulder to keep him from being thrown off his feet by the sudden impact of bodies. It almost wasn't enough, and Date himself instinctually took one hand off the sword to instead find stability against Naoe's coat.

Both men stopped, startled by the sudden proximity they shared and humbled by the action that had almost taken place. Shingen and the guards looked on in blank confusion as they met each other's eyes. For long moments Naoe felt as if he could not move; he was focused entirely on the man pressed against him and his precarious balance. Only when he was sure that Date would not lose his footing and fall did he at last begin to extricate himself.

"Masamune..." Naoe's heart beat a painful rhythm against his ribs as watched the myriad of emotions playing across Date's face. Slowly he urged his sword away from them both, not caring that it twisted against the faint wound it had already carved into his forearm. "You..." He stood taller as he forced the words through. "You needn't hurry towards honor in death. You can still have it here."

That look again. By now Naoe could tell that Date's sobered expression was meant for and due to him alone, and though he could not fathom why, it deepened the mysterious ache already in his chest. A moment later it was replaced again with petulance. "Don't be an imbecile," Date sneered at him. "I already said--"

"Lord Shingen," Naoe cut him off. "Please, may I speak with him alone?"

Shingen regarded him curiously, though with much more patience than the guards seemed willing to offer. After a moment's contemplation he relented. "Very well. But if he bites you again, it will be your own fault."

"A risk I'll take." Naoe motioned towards the still open tent, the only hope for privacy they had out on the field. Though Date glared back at him warily for several seconds he at last marched into the enclosure with as much dignity as he could muster.

Naoe took in a deep breath. He had not planned for this and had little idea of what he intended to say, but he knew it was up to him to say something. It was too much of a waste to let a man die now, with the battle already over. With a thankful nod to Shingen he followed Date into the tent, and jerked the entrance flaps down behind him.

Now closed, the interior was darker than Naoe had anticipated. Normally there would have been a fire or torch to light it, but now there was only faint orange glow from the open vents were smoke was meant to exit. As Naoe's eyes adjusted to the darkness he at first could only see a vague outline of Date sitting near the edge of the tent. His left leg was stretched out awkwardly in front of him, and he appeared to be loosening the ties on his armor and shedding his gloves.

"So?" Date grumbled as he finally tried to shove some of the blood-matted hair from his face. "What is it you want to tell me? About how life is good and precious, and how fighting for you is the will of heaven? The path of justice?" He shook his head with a bitter laugh. "Save your damn speeches!"

Naoe loosened his broken armguard, letting it fall with a clatter that startled Date into paying proper attention to him. "No," he said slowly as he tore open his sleeve and used it to cover the gash along his forearm. "I was just thinking...the last time I saw you face to face, it was at Odawara. You're just as stubborn now as you were then."

"Odawara Castle?" Date stopped fussing over his wounds and glared back at Naoe through the shadows. "What are you talking about? What about--" He suddenly went stiff. "Where were you when Orochi first brought us here?"

"Where?" Naoe tried not to think too much about the world they had left behind. Ever since they had defeated Orochi the first time only to discover that their countries could not go back to how they had been, he and many others had put their sole focus on the current survival of their clans. Even now, with Orochi dead a second time, there were no signs that they would be returned to the realms they came from. There was no point in dwelling on it.

However, now that Date's question hung in the air between them, he could recall the events leading up to their travel through the sky very well. "It was at Hasedo," he answered Date evenly. Though he knew the younger man would not respond well to any temper he displayed, he could not help the hostility threatening to take command of his voice. "As I was leading my clan to safety, with your army at our heels."

Date's eye thinned. "You mean right after Ishida lost at Sekigahara."

Naoe's fists clenched at his sides, and though he counseled himself towards patience, the insolence in Date's voice raised his hackles too effectively. "Yes. The messenger reached us as we were preparing for battle." He looked to where the sunset continued to leak into the tent, allowing his earlier broodings to return to him. "As soon as we heard, I was desperate," he recalled aloud in hopes that his honesty might reach out to Date somehow. "I had no idea if my dear friend still lived. I wished that I had been there at his side, on the plains--these plains. How relieved I was when we arrived here and he was safe..."

Date made a short sound of disgust at the back of his throat, which worsened to a cough, and at last trailed off in a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Stupid fool," he derided Naoe coldly. "Don't you understand anything?"

"Do you have any right to say that to me now?" Naoe retorted boldly. "Twice we have bested you and your 'master' Orochi. Your insults are petty and meaningless." To have spared a man's life only to be mocked by him made Naoe squirm with restlessness.

"Think, you imbecile!" Date snapped back. "You say you remember fighting for Hideyoshi at Odawara, right? But not three leagues away Oda Nobunaga is _alive_ at Azuchi, building his army. With the Akechi that murdered him at his side!" His voice rose angrily. "Ishida lost his head at Sekigahara, but that hasn't stopped him from fighting alongside Wei, a kingdom that's been dead and buried some hundred years. And you!" He pointed emphatically. "On your heels? We ran you down in Hasedo!"

"That's absurd," Naoe quickly retorted. "I know what I remember!"

"All this time and you haven't stopped to think? I thought I could count on you for more than that." Date drew in his injured leg and forced it to support him as he struggled upright once more. "_Think_ about it."

Naoe advanced a few steps to put them closer together. At his greater height Date had to lift his chin to meet his eyes properly, and he took advantage of it. "I have considered it," he admitted. "But what good does it do to dwell on it? This is the world we have been given to defend now."

In fact, Naoe had thought about it a great deal, though not in some time. He knew it was folly to look for sense in the fact that he could fight alongside is master Kenshin and his friend Mitsunari at the same time. History itself had been upset at Orochi's coming. And if what Date said was true--though it pained him to admit--he could not help but be grateful so many of his friends had been spared their deaths by coming here.

"What Orochi did to our world was sin itself," Naoe went on passionately. "But now that we are here, we have the chance to make up for our mistakes of the past. Look at Lord Shingen and I--he is my master's enemy, but here we are allies. All we needed was something to break the cycle of war, and now we can live in peace."

"Sentimental idiot. You're still not seeing anything." Date staggered forward and jabbed Naoe in the chest with two fingers. "What you call peace, I call a lie. If you'd stop being so delusional you'd see it too!"

Naoe pushed the hand irritably away. "If my delusions save lives, I will happily keep them!"

"They didn't save yours!" Date shouted. "Why won't you listen to me when I'm trying to help you!?"

Naoe started, and when his fully adjusted eyes saw truth in Date's face, he was unable to hold on to his anger. Understanding at last gleamed at the back of his mind and shiver snuck beneath his skin. "I died?"

Date stepped back, maintaining his anger longer than Naoe had been able to, but eventually it too crumbled from his features and left stubborn uncertainty in its place. He rubbed his sore wrists. "At Hasedo," he answered lowly. "We caught up to you in the north."

It was strange to hear someone speak of his long past death. "And my men?"

"Scattered. A few survived, but not many." Date lowered his gaze. "Not Keiji."

Naoe shuddered, and without meaning to he snatched Date by the shoulders with shaking hands. Date's words allowed him to envision the scene better than he should have: made desperate from his worry for Mitsunari, he had known even back then that he was not difficult quarry for Tokugawa's allies. He could imagine Keiji bravely defending their rear flank, killing many but eventually succumbing to the Date's riflemen. He could even see himself, made furious from the injustice of it all, taking Date's own blade against his throat just like he almost had only a few minutes ago.

"Dead... I don't believe you!" Naoe shoved Date back, using greater force than was necessary to send the injured daimyo sprawling. "My men would never fall to a dog like you!"

Date landed on his back, and coughed weakly as he pushed himself up on his hip. "That's more like you," he taunted.

"How dare you think you can die with honor after all you've done!" Naoe continued to rage. He paced back and forth, his brain whirling from the knowledge he had been given. Bile burned at the back of his throat. "Must you always side with the man most wicked, the one most determined to usurp what is not his? Better you and Tokugawa both had died with your serpent master!"

"You just stopped me from taking my own head, now you want me dead?" Date goaded. "Make up your damn mind."

Naoe quaked with frustration. "I saved you because I thought I might be able to talk sense into you. But all that pride of yours you've wasted! I...I'm ashamed of you!" He stopped his anxious pacing to glare down at him. "For a moment, I thought I saw remorse in you. But I must have been wrong--you haven't changed at all!"

Date glared back, determined to remain cold, but again Naoe was given pause by something deeper behind that stubbornness. All his instinct told him to fight for that little flicker. If only he could control his temper and remember his own teachings, perhaps he could spare this dragon further dishonor. He opened his mouth to speak further, but abruptly Date beat him to it.

"I have changed."

Date forced himself to sit upright, and when he wobbled Naoe instinctually crouched down and let support to his shoulder. Surprisingly, Date did not reject his assistance; he appeared intent on finishing what he had started to say. "Stupid fool Kanetsugu. If only you had seen as much of the future as I did, maybe you'd feel differently."

"Tell me," Naoe insisted. "If you know something, make me understand."

Date shifted his posture, but abruptly he hissed in pain and almost toppled once more. Again Naoe helped him, and though Date resisted a little this time he gave up when the removal of his chest plate helped him breathe more easily. He rubbed his ribs, and though he was obviously sore Naoe was relieved not to see more blood beneath the armor.

"Tokugawa wins," Date said, despite his fatigue speaking with intensity. "He killed your precious Ishida at Sekigahara. He crushed the Toyotomi. I watched it all." His voice shook with a vehemence different from his usual ranting, and it shook Naoe too the more he listened: these confessions were sincere. "I hate to say it, to you of all people, but that was when I saw what it means to be a true warrior. And I sawwhat you've always seen in me." His hand clenched abruptly against Naoe's arm, which was already supporting him; though his steely fingers dug into the fresh wound Naoe did not try to escape his desperate grip. "I saw a dog."

Naoe tensed, and spoke softly to match Date's quiet admissions. "That's not what I see right now."

Date returned his sincerity with doubt. "Liar. That's all you've ever seen." His sighed. "I don't care what you think of me. But after what I saw at Edo, I knew I couldn't continue the same way. I had to _fight_. That's why Orochi took me when he did."

The mention of Orochi ruined whatever empathy Naoe had been working up for the man. "Fighting for Orochi did not make you less of a dog," he retorted, more harshly than he had intended.

"You only say that because you don't understand," Date snapped in kind. "Even after you beat Orochi the first time, what happened? Everyone went right back to fighting. Don't you think it will be the same after today?" Date at last shoved Naoe's hands away from him. "This land can only have one ruler--the strongest. That's what Orochi wanted, and it's what I want."

"But strength means nothing if a ruler is not also just," Naoe insisted, even though he sensed they had argued this point before. "As soon as Orochi had power he lost it because his men turned against him at every turn. Is that the rule you want?"

"Without one ruler there is chaos anyway!" They were both growing heated again. "We need to put an end to this war now, before we have to fight again!"

"But you don't understand...damn it." Naoe pulled off his helmet, and the kiss of cool evening air against his scalp helped calm his head somewhat. He was in danger of losing his temper again, which would help neither of them--Shingen had done him a favor by giving them this time, and he hated to squander it by not getting anywhere. "You're so damn stubborn."

"Not as stubborn as you," Date grunted.

They sat in silence for several minutes, steaming wordlessly as the inside of the tent grew darker still. Soon the sun would be set, and they wouldn't be able to see each other at all. Naoe looked once more while he still could, thinking to himself that he had to figure out the meaning behind those looks Date had fixed him with before it was too late. Maybe there really was something that he was meant to understand, something that would unlock whatever secret Date was clinging to and get them past this petty bickering.

Date watched him, too. Just before the last sliver of light faded from their enclosure, Naoe caught a glimpse of something in his face that at last supplied him with the answer he had been seeking; a startling revelation that he could not help but voice as soon as it came to him. "You regret killing me at Hasedo, don't you?"

Date was little more than a shadow in front of him now, but they were still seated so close that Naoe felt the younger man's body grow tense. Half formed denials played at his lips but remained unspoken.

"Why?" Naoe pressed. "You hate me as much as you hate what I stand for. So why should you--"

"It's not that," Date quickly interrupted him. "It's not that I..." He sighed in frustration. "You're just wrong, that's all. Justice and duty don't mean what you think they mean, and it pisses me off. But just because you're an idiot doesn't mean I hate you."

His reasoning was almost charming in its childishness. "You didn't mean 'we' in a general since just now, did you?" Naoe went on in amazement. "When you said you want to end this war before 'we' have to fight again."

"Shut up!"

He tried to squirm away, but Naoe wouldn't allow it; his fingers were tingling as he grabbed Date's arms and held him still. "Just tell me the truth!" he demanded. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's just...it wasn't good enough, damn it!" Date exploded. "I wanted to prove you wrong, but not like that!"

"Like what? What did you--"

Date shoved Naoe's hands off him again, violently. "I saw your face!" he admitted at last. "I won--there was no justice there, no honor, just like I always told you. But it meant nothing!" He shook his head. "I didn't want to be right. You didn't--"

Date abruptly ran out of strength. He slumped forward, bracing himself on his hands. "You didn't deserve to die like that," he finished bitterly. "You were right about me, and I didn't realize until it was too late. You, and Sanada...you didn't deserve to be killed by me."

Naoe closed his eyes, reminding himself that Date was talking about a future that had been interrupted, not the present truth. "Yukimura..." At last he was finally beginning to understand. He never would have guessed that Date could feel so distressed for his sake, and despite the horrible dishonor he was describing Naoe found he could not respond with anger this time. He was too emboldened by the knowledge that he might have been right about Date all along: there was a good man beneath that bravado and recklessness.

"That's why I'm fighting so hard now," Date continued determinedly. "I'm not a dog. Once I'm strong enough, maybe it will mean your death really meant something. That it wasn't wasted." He started to straighten up. "And in order to be strong enough, what I need is--"

"Stop." Naoe reached forward one last time into the dark. "Don't say anything else, or we're just going to start fighting again."

He found Date's shoulder first, and from there it was easy to find Date's neck and then his jaw. His fingers brushed against clammy skin and felt warm breath against their tips. Date went very still at first, though Naoe could feel the goose bumps crawling up his neck. It wasn't the reaction he expected, but when Date at last turned his face against his hand he too felt a prickle along his back.

"You deserved better," Date said again, as if it were a complaint. He grabbed Naoe's hand and kept it close; the feeling of his calloused fingers, scraped and quivering, made Naoe ache with sympathy. "Don't ever let me kill you again."

Naoe sighed quietly through a smile. "If you would just join our side, you wouldn't have to worry about that."

Date harrumphed. "You're right. We should both shut up."

"At least call a truce for now," Naoe still made the attempt. "Let us dress your wounds and--"

He was silenced when Date surged forward; even in the black of the tent Date's aim was perfect, guiding his mouth to Naoe's in an unexpected kiss. Naoe jumped in surprise, and was shocked further by the reactions of acceptance he felt from his own body. Date's harsh, hungry lips sent his heart racing and turned his rational mind to mud.

"Is this a good enough truce for you?" Date challenged, twisting his gloved fingers in Naoe's coat.

"What are you doing?" Naoe squirmed, glancing to the tent entrance that was guarded only by a few strips of hanging cloth.

"Don't be an idiot--what does it look like I'm doing?"

Date kissed him again, more forcefully than before, and leaned heavily into Naoe's broader body. There was so much anxious insistence behind his lips that Naoe couldn't help but kiss him back. After all their arguing and truth-telling he already felt the adrenaline coursing through his blood, and it made it that much easier for him to give in to the sudden ache behind his ribs. With a tiny murmur of disbelief he took Date by the shoulders.

"Wait." Naoe's better since got the better of him too quickly, and he urged Date back. "This is ridiculous!"

"Don't worry, I still hate you," Date replied as he pulled at Naoe's coat.

"But I thought you said you didn't--"

"Shit, why do you have to be so picky?" Date lowered his right hand suddenly between Naoe's thighs and squeezed.

Naoe gasped sharply, and when he tried to squirm back Date only pressed closer against him. Though they were both still in most of their armor the nimble fingers stroking his crotch made Naoe see white. "Masa--wait," he breathed, but his hands fumbled when he tried to push him back. His mind knew this was wrong but his body was slow to reach the same conclusion. "Stop!"

Date turned his face against Naoe's neck, the hot pant of his breath sending tremors of excitement through him. "This world might be hell," he said quietly, "but I'm glad you're here and not home, Kanetsugu."

He gave Naoe another firm squeeze, and smothered his startled moan against a firm kiss. Then, just as suddenly as he had made his advance, Date let Naoe go and pressed both hands against his shoulders to help boost him to his feet. "All right. It's a truce."

Dumbfounded and breathing hard, Naoe stared up at him blankly--but all he could see was a dark figure against a darker background. "What?"

"You all won fair and square. I'll order my men to submit. But I'm not swearing loyalty to anyone just yet." Date retrieved his shed breastplate. "Only you."

Naoe leaned back on his hands; he wished desperately that he could make out Date's face despite the dark. "I don't understand you at all," he admitted irritably.

Date snorted. "You'll have time."

His shuffling footsteps led away, and it wasn't until the tent flap was drawn open that Naoe found himself able to move. He bolted quickly to his feet as the guards peered inside to make sure he was all right. Snatching up his helmet and armguard, he followed Date outside the tent to tell Shingen the outcome of their "negotiation."

By then, Sekigahara had gone dark. Around the camp men were finishing their last duties for the day before they would settle into their tents for the night. A long march home awaited all of them. But when Naoe glanced to Date one more time in the flickering torch light, he could see that he was smiling.


End file.
